


Cupid's Bow

by Yuu_no_hu



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 'Clara' Barton, 'Philippa' Coulson, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Cunnilingus, Deaf Clint Barton, F/F, Femslash, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Healthy Relationships, brief mentions of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3756430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuu_no_hu/pseuds/Yuu_no_hu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blond was perched on the countertop, a cup of disgustingly pink, strawberry flavored yogurt in one hand and her coffee cup cradled between her thighs, it was a strange flavor combination, but Philippa had long come to the conclusion that the archer just didn’t have functioning taste buds, so she’d stopped worrying about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupid's Bow

**Author's Note:**

> warnings/notes at the end

She was always messy when she first rolled out of bed, blond hair sticking out every which way and red creases on her face from the way that she always pressed her face down into the pillow, hazel blue eyes peering out from underneath her messy bangs. Many, many people -most of them ones who should really know better- were frightened when sharp blue eyes snapped open to stare at them as she woke up, her expression eerily blank, sometimes going so far as to jump back and babble; as if fearing to be bodily harmed for daring to do something as small as wake her up, earning themselves annoyed glares from the archer as she waved tired hands at them to wait for her to get her hearing aids before trying to tell her anything important. Because hell if she was going to put in the effort to try and read their lips while she was still half asleep.

Philippa always found those ones to be rather dim witted and generally chose to wake Clara up herself, skipping all of the fuss.  
Especially after they’d started living together. 

She liked watching sharp eyes go slightly wider once the other woman was aware enough to recognize faces, sometimes giving in and leaning down to kiss softly parted lips, murmuring a quiet ‘good morning’ before turning to leave again, making sure that the other could follow the movement of her lips; since the days that she needed to wake the archer up were generally the ones in which they had no time for slow mornings or cuddling.

On days when they did have the time, Philippa was still usually the first one to wake up, since she was far too used to going to bed late and waking up early on a daily basis; whereas Clara was more in the habit of taking as much sleep as she could get whenever she could get it.  
When there were no nightmares and no other reason to get up, it had been proven she could sleep for up to sixteen hours straight, likely making up for how little she got the rest of the time.

Philippa would have readily admitted that she enjoyed the slow mornings more. 

It was rare that she could pinpoint the exact moment that the blond awoke, but she’d eventually curl closer against Philippa’s chest without opening her eyes, nuzzling the other’s collarbone and eventually puffing “g’morning” with a voice made scratchy from sleep, slurred and too loud since she wasn’t bothering to regulate her voice, comfortable enough to not care. 

Sometimes, when she felt more like moving, Clara’s gentle nuzzling would take on new intent, wandering towards more sensitive areas, teeth scraping lightly along pale skin and leaving soft marks, sometimes choosing to make them dark and tender just from the curiosity of seeing how far she could go.  
Sometimes she did just enough to make Philippa’s breath quicken and her hands move along Clara’s shoulder blades to try and grip at her bare skin, suddenly grateful that the archer never tended to wear clothes to bed when they were at home, it only made things so much easier on those sorts of mornings. 

Sometimes she persuaded Philippa to do the same, or convinced her that they didn’t _really_ need to get dressed again after sex because they were just going to bed anyway, but she knew exactly how much the other woman relished pulling Philippa’s sleep pants down over her hips, noticed the enthusiasm with which Clara pulled the collar of her teeshirt out of shape so that there wouldn’t be anything between her teeth and Philippa’s collarbone; although she’d just as readily mouth at her skin through the thin fabric, not seeming to mind the soft cotton on her tongue.

Sometimes she never removed Philippa’s shirt at all, leaving it pulled up over her breasts while she had her way with the taller woman. Strong arms pinning her down, keeping her exposed as the archer’s tongue danced along her most sensitive areas.  
And Philippa let her do it, although it was sometimes inconvenient, the fabric tangling around her arms and shoulders like that. 

There were times when she stripped herself, not willing to be quite that patient; she’d pull away long enough to slip out of the loose sleep clothes before rolling them so that she rested against soft hips, muscled thighs tightening as she skimmed her mouth across tanned skin, sometimes managing to tickle her lips with the unshaven stubble on the inside of the archer’s thighs before finally moving to cool the sensation with the thick fluids that slicked thick blond curls, licking at the dampness with quiet intensity and making her partner gasp and groan with latent appreciation, moaning “I want-God-ah-Fuckk” her hands making in half-formed signs before it became too much again and the blond would arch with a loud, breathy sound, fingers clenching in the sheets as Philippa worked diligently to make her come apart at the seams.

~ 

She liked watching the way that Clara moved differently after they’d been in bed.  
It was subtle, Philippa was fairly certain that only she and probably Nat noticed it, but she appreciated it all the same.  
Her gait was always looser afterwards, shoulders set a little lower than their usual smug slant, and no one but Philippa would know exactly why.  
It wasn’t really a secret that they were together, not by a long shot, but it was a sort of open secret, most people who knew them knew that they were together, but neither of them was particularly interested in having the press find out.  
They didn’t care for the harassment that it would garner. 

Despite same sex relationships being quite legal and quickly nearing normal, there was still a startlingly high rate of assault and death threats that came from that sort of thing, and Philippa simply did not have the patience for it.

Clara got herself into too many potentially deadly situations on her own for Philippa to feel comfortable with the amount of ‘make you straight/haven’t tried _my_ dick yet’ threats that would come with a public relationship.  
And while S.H.I.E.L.D agents could be just as stupidly obnoxious as college boys, they’d managed to keep Philippa and her relationship with Hawkeye out of the public eye, which was something at least. 

~

She watched Clara trail by her and into the kitchen, movements lazy and wardrobe an amusing mix of cute and half-assed.  
It was always obvious when the blond had started to let herself be dressed by Nat -for some reason it had become something that the two of them did, and Philippa didn’t question it- only to get bored half way through and walk out to get breakfast and coffee. 

Philippa sat at the table, her coffee mug cradled in her palms protectively, raising a skeptical eyebrow at the getup.

Opaque black tights slid along curvy legs and up beneath grey denim short-shorts that clung to the soft swell of her ass in a way that made Philippa want to stare, carefully styled blond hair falling around her downturned face as she dug around in the fridge, but Philippa saw the subtle makeup flushing round cheeks and lengthened naturally thick lashes with mascara and eyeliner, cupids bow lips coated in a sheen of light pink, when the blond glanced over at her with a quick smile.

She was also wearing some old brown boots that could have been black at one point in time and one of Philippa’s old army shirts. Truthfully, they were probably lucky that she’d decided to don a shirt at all before coming out, since she obviously hadn’t bothered with a bra.

Philippa let her gaze linger for a moment on the way that the faded fabric bunched across full breasts before glancing back down at her coffee and the papers that she’d lain on the table in hopes of getting through them while she drank it.

She didn’t hear Clara move behind her, but she didn’t need to.

She sighed when the scuffed toe of the other woman’s boot nudged against her spine through the slats of her chair, taking a moment to finish her sentence before turning her head to glance back at the other. 

The blond was perched on the countertop, a cup of disgustingly pink, strawberry flavored yogurt in one hand and her coffee cup cradled between her thighs, it was a strange flavor combination, but Philippa had long come to the conclusion that the archer just didn’t have functioning taste buds, so she’d stopped worrying about it. 

Clara’s head tipped to the side, lips pursed around her spoon as she slowly pulled it from her mouth with her free hand “what’re you doing?” She asked, smirking slightly as she spoke.  
Philippa pursed her lips, answering “work” and slowly turning back to her papers to keep going, letting herself be soothed by the soft noises that came with the other’s presence, the quiet, lazy shuffling, the clink of teeth on ceramic and absentminded, tuneless humming.  
It didn’t make her work any slower or less thoroughly, so she didn’t call it a ‘distraction’, it was… nice, she’d always enjoyed the other woman’s presence. 

She heard the quiet thud of boots hitting the floor, the sound different from when Clara had been accidentally banging them into the cabinet doors while kicking at the air for her own amusement. 

Truthfully, for being called some of the ‘earth’s mightiest heros’ all of the people who lived in the Avengers tower could be incredibly clumsy.  
Except, perhaps, for Nat.

A warm hand landed on Philippa’s shoulder.

She tipped her head back, gazing up into clear blue eyes and, as always, admiring the soft hazel flecks that danced across them, the patterns almost mimicking the light freckles that settled themselves on the blond’s suntanned skin.

She made a questioning sound and Clara's head tilted again, then she grinned “you know what?” She asked, her voice teasing and warm.  
Philippa raised an eyebrow, allowing herself a small smile in return. 

The blond leaned closer, still holding Philippa’s gaze as she repeated “you know what?” her voice a touch softer than it had been a moment ago. “What?” Philippa gave in and asked, knowing that she was probably enabling, since any reaction to the archer’s myriad of pranks only seemed to encourage her more. 

Clara’s smile grew wider and she leaned in a bit closer, her cheek brushing against Philippa’s as she put her mouth near the brunette’s ear, another long moment of silence before she breathed “I love you.” So quiet that if anyone else had been in the room, they wouldn’t have heard it.  
Then she was gone.

Philippa let her eyes fall shut, listening for but not hearing the departing footsteps.

She wondered briefly if the heat in her face was actually flushing her skin or not, but ultimately decided that it didn’t matter, slowly straightening in her seat and taking a moment to brush her fingertips across her cheek before going back to her work, a small smile still playing across her mouth as she picked up the pen that had slipped from her fingers a mere minute before. 

**Author's Note:**

> There is a very brief mention of homophobia and sexual threats. Just. I don't want to trigger anyone.
> 
> I actually wrote this a long time ago, but I never got around to posting it despite how fond of it I am. >.>
> 
> Hope you like it!


End file.
